


All The Stars Aligned

by mckennaraye



Category: Cinderella (Fairy Tale), Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms, Original Work
Genre: Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, Bisexual Character, Character(s) of Color, F/F, Fairy Tale Retellings, LGBTQ Themes, Lesbian Character, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 09:22:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4386449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mckennaraye/pseuds/mckennaraye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlotte's plan was simple: run away to the ball and finally escape her adoptive mother. But when her plan leads her to Princess Isabel, things get a bit more complicated.</p><p>A re-imagining of the tale of Cinderella.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Stars Aligned

**Author's Note:**

> We always need more fairy tales with characters that aren't straight, so I decided to make one of my own. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Note: there will be mentions of abuse later in this story. I will be keeping it mild so hopefully everyone can still read this, and it shouldn't be worse than what you would normally see in Cinderella, but here's a heads up just in case.
> 
> Title was inspired by "All My Stars Aligned" by St. Vincent.

These gusts of wind were really starting to get on Charlotte’s nerves. Her dress, which she would have been fine with wearing in any other weather, kept catching the wind like a sail as she walked. The near-constant breezes picked up her waves of hair and tangled them in ways that she knew would hurt to brush out the next morning. Then there was the matter of her worn-out shoes, which rubbed her heels and pinched her toes with every step down the smooth dirt path. Charlotte winced at the pain. She could always ask for a new pair, but how unfair it was that she would once again have to give up a beloved pair of shoes just because her feet had outgrown them!

The little girl let go of her father’s hand to push an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “Are we almost there?” she asked him.

“Right around this next turn, dear.” Yet another bend in the forest road they were travelling on.

She took hold of his fingers again and looked up at him. “Can you carry me? Just for the rest of the way?”

Her father sighed. “You’re getting too big for that.” He gave Charlotte’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I promise, it’s just around this corner…”

But what was it? She knew her father had taken her out of town to see something important, but what that important thing was remained to be seen. Half an hour had passed and Charlotte had not gotten any clues about the nature of this surprise. She returned her gaze to the ground, satisfied with this answer for now, but filled with questions nonetheless.

She glanced up to ask again what they were going to see, but saw that her father had stopped dead in his tracks. He stared ahead, a small smile on his face slowly growing as he took in the sight before him.

“It’s still here. Just as I remembered.”

Charlotte turned forward to see vines upon vines of wisteria, swaying with the wind and all draping over a white stone gazebo nestled in a nook of trees. Two steps led up to the round raised platform, surrounded by columns which reached up to support a domed roof. Though the gazebo was in the midst of forest leaves being blown about, its floor was somehow free of any kind of leaves or dirt. Every surface looked pristine enough to see your reflection in. Two stone benches sat on opposite sides of the structure, empty except for a small silvery moth resting on the left seat.

Her father stepped forward and slipped his hand around one of the bunches of purple flowers, bringing it close to breathe in its fragrance. “All these years, and it hasn’t changed a bit,” he said softly.

Unable to contain her curiosity any longer, Charlotte hurried inside. The little moth on the bench fluttered away as she sat down, kicking off her old flats and stretching out her toes. She ran her hand along the edge of her seat, enjoying the cool feeling of the stone on her fingertips. Inside the gazebo, it felt like a little world all its own, almost entirely untouched by the outside woods. The columns around her seemed to be a barrier, keeping out anything that might mar the beauty of this place.

Her father came in the gazebo then, ducking under the wisteria blossoms in the entrance. He grinned when he saw Charlotte’s amazement at her new discovery.

“I was going to ask if you liked it, but I think the look on your face answers that question.”

Charlotte’s eyes lit up. “It’s so beautiful,” she said in wonder. “How did you find this, Father?”

Father took the bench on the other side. “As long as I can remember, this little place has always been here. I used to love to explore these woods when I was a boy, and somehow I would always end up here. It was this lovely even back then, and I came here any time I needed a break from chores and schoolwork.”

Charlotte swung her bare feet back and forth as she listened.

“It was the most beautiful thing I could think of, until I met your mother. So when the time came to ask her to marry me, I knew exactly where to take her. I had to do it here. I couldn’t imagine doing it any other way.”

He leaned into Charlotte, resting his chin on his clasped hands. “And as you probably figured out, she said yes. That’s how we got you, four years ago.” Father sighed wistfully. “I only wish you could have seen her.”

The sound of rustling branches filled the momentary silence. “What was she like?” Charlotte asked.

“She was very funny. Never met anyone who loved jokes as much as she did. She loved animals, too, all animals, from the baby birds in the nest to the bugs in the garden. Especially the bugs. I never understood why, but it made me smile how she would watch the beetles crawling along the windowpanes in the summer.” He laughed a little at the memory. “And she was so beautiful. She had eyes like yours, the color of a storm cloud. She was still young when her hair went grey, and she used to worry that she wouldn’t be as pretty as the other ladies in town after that, but she was always the prettiest one to me.”

Charlotte pondered on these words. “Do you think I’ll ever meet a girl as pretty as Mother?”

A tear was beginning to form in her father’s eye. “Maybe someday, maybe someday.”

She leaned back against a white column. “Because when I get older and meet a girl and decide to marry her, I wanna take her here. Just like you.”

Father smiled. “Of course. Just make sure I get to meet her when you do.”

Rising from the bench, he added, “But first, we ought to get you some better shoes.”


End file.
